


Torn Asunder

by GuildedAdversary



Series: Sky Mender [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Lavellan just wants a nap, Lavellan's endless flirting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-10-23 20:01:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10726200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GuildedAdversary/pseuds/GuildedAdversary
Summary: Lavellan isn't some young maiden. Her life has been long and particularly eventful, enough so that shes sure she seen enough for two, maybe three, lifetimes. She'd thought that she'd earned a break but apparently life wasn't quite finished surprising her.





	1. A Guilty Amnesiac

Cassandra was undoubtedly the most pleasant person she’d ever met.

 

“Explain this.”

 

"I...I can't."

 

"What do you mean you ' _can't_ '?"

 

The elf had a feeling that no matter the answer she gave, it wouldn't be the one the women before her wanted.

 

"I don't know what that is or how it got there."

 

“You’re _lying_!”

 

Evidently, that was the worst answer she could’ve given because Cassandra shoved her completely off balance, the woman’s grip on her coat being the only thing keeping her from falling completely backward. The hooded woman, who had simply been watching up to this point, grabbed Cassandra by the shoulder and dragged her back. This had the lovely side benefit of helping the elf right herself.

  
“We need her, Cassandra.”

  
Her shackles creaked as she adjusted to brace herself.

  
“Whatever you think I did, I’m innocent.”

  
Though, she couldn’t blame them for thinking otherwise. Was she really the only survivor?

  
“Do you remember what happened? How this began?”

  
Her tone was softer than Cassandra’s had been and the elf was wondering if this hadn’t been the plan. One acts threateningly, the other acts almost kind to get her to open up. Unfortunately for their efforts would be useless.

  
“I remember running. Things were chasing me. And then…”,her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to recall,”…a woman?”

  
Yes, there had definitely been a woman. Hadn’t there? She felt like she should know them, but then why couldn’t she recall who it was?

  
Her interrogator crossed her arms, tilting her head in confusion.

  
“A woman?”

  
“She reached out to me, but then…”

  
She shook her head. Like she thought. She’d been trying since she had woken up, but all she didn’t even how she’d been separated from her clan in the first place.

  
Cassandra stepped between them.

  
“Go to the forward camp, Leliana. I will take her to the rift.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

  
She could feel the ache in her shoulder every time she drew the string back. It was actually starting to make her arms shake. If she missed she could hit Cassandra and she had a feeling that’d put a damper on her newly gained trust.

  
“Your life is threatened enough as is.”

  
No kidding. The enemies were falling out of the damn sky at this point. Of course, that wasn’t nearly as strange as the hole in the middle of the sky. And they thought she could seal it. She felt the anxiety prickling against her. Even if the mark had the power to seal the rifts, could she use it? How did it even work? All it seemed to do was itch and burn. It only got worse the more she tried to grip her bow.

  
The last shade fell and she jogged to meet up with Cassandra on the steps, passing her bow to her right hand. She kneeled for a moment and shoved her hand into the snow. She huffed in annoyance as the burning settled into a dull itch. Cassandra jerked her head towards the stairs and she fell in step behind the seeker as they made their way up.

  
“We’re getting close to the rift. You can hear the fighting.”

  
“Who’s fighting?”

  
“You’ll see soon. We must help them.”

  
Okay, she was seriously tired of the cryptic bullshit. She had been awake for a few hours, at least, and had still received almost no answers. Of course, that could be because no one had the answers she was looking for. Maybe she was just grumpy because she hadn’t eaten yet.

  
They rounded the corner and she froze.

  
“The fuck is that?”

  
It was barely more than a whisper but she felt it deep in her bones. Cassandra gave her a disapproval glance, whether she thought the elf was still responsible for this and lying to her or the language offended her, the elf couldn’t really bring herself to care. Floating in front of them was a green crystallized…thing. The way it was shifting and changing shape was making her very uncomfortable. You’d think with the hole in the sky and the demon’s falling from it, she’d be less surprised by these things but no.

  
Speaking of demons.

  
She and Cassandra jumped the small ledge. While Cassandra charged ahead to distract the shades, she adjusted the bow in her burning hand while drawing an arrow from her quiver with the other. Her muscles protested as she drew back the string. She hoped she could hold out to the end of this.

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Quickly, before more come through!”

  
The mage kept a tight grip on her arm as he yanked her forward, shoving her marked hand toward the tear. She tried to protest to the rough handling- seriously, could no one just use their fucking words?-but the beam of light that shot from the mark and into the tear silenced her thoroughly. Could this get any stranger? She should probably stop with that question, life was apparently taking that as a challenge.

  
The tether between her and the tear pulled at something inside her, tugging and pulling at her mind. Just when she thought it would engulf her, she felt something rising inside her. Panic? Strength? Perhaps it was just pure determination. Whatever it happened to be, it was pulling back against the tear. She ground her teeth together hard and instinctively yanked her arm back, closing her hand into a tight fist. The air crackled around her and the tear snapped shut with a thunderous clap. The force of it all nearly knocked her over but she caught herself, holding her fist to her chest. She glanced at the mage with suspicion.

  
“What did you do?”

  
He tilted his head slightly, a small smile gracing his lips.

  
“I did nothing. The credit is yours.”

  
She looked at the palm of her hand and flexed her fingers experimentally. The burning she expected to be there had returned to the dull itch from before.

  
“You mean this?”

  
He nodded.

  
“Whatever magic opened the Breach in the sky also place that mark upon your hand. May I?”

  
He held his hands out towards hers. She nodded slowly and placed her left hand in his right, palm up. He held it gently, stepping closer to her as he looked at it more closely.

  
“I theorized the mark might be able to close the rifts that have opened in the Breach’s wake-,” he ran his thumb gently over the burn on her palm,”And it seems I was correct.”

  
Cassandra watched them curiously.

  
“Meaning it could also close the breach itself.”

  
The Seeker sounded so hopeful, it made the poor elf woman nauseous. A reminder of what would happen if this failed.

  
His eyes shifted briefly to Cassandra, then back to her hand.

  
“Possibly.”

  
The mage hummed a bit and clasped her hand in both of his. The cool feeling of water flowed around her hand like she’d dipped her hand into a stream. The feeling traveled up her arm before spreading through the rest of her body. She sighed as the aches of her body soothed and her muscles relaxed. When he released her hand she clenched and unclenched it.

  
“My thanks,” she said, a smile tugging at her lips.

  
“Thank me if we manage to close the Breach without killing you in the process.”

  
Another reminder her life was on the line. There was the nausea again. He must have sensed her unease because he offered her a sympathetic smile.

  
“It would seem you hold the key to our salvation.”

  
And here she thought he was going to say something comforting.

  
“Good to know! Here I thought we’d be ass deep in demons forever.”

  
She turned her attention to the dwarf, watching warily as he approached.

  
He returned her look of suspicion with a grin and gestured to himself with his left hand, his other extended like he was about to bow.

  
“Varric Tethras: rogue, storyteller, and occasionally unwelcome tagalong.”

  
His eyes moved to Cassandra as he ended his introduction and he winked at her. The elf had to suppress her amusement when the Seeker made a face that looked like she had eaten something particularly bitter.

  
She shifted uncomfortably, trying to gauge who exactly he was. She’d read his books, sure, but she didn’t know who he was, or why he was here for that matter.

  
“Are you with the chantry, or…?”

  
She looked about for anyone else, anyone that didn’t seem to be associated with the group.

  
The mage next to her chuckled and shook his head.

  
“Was that a serious question?”

  
Varric answered before she could snark about all city folk looking the same. She should probably thank him for that later, it very likely spared her life from Cassandra’s wrath.

  
“Technically I’m a prisoner, just like you.”

  
Cassandra interjected before he could go further.

  
“I brought you her to tell your story to the Divine. Clearly that is no longer necessary.”

  
The dwarf tossed his hands up.

  
“Yet, here I am. Lucky for you, considering current events.”

  
Okay, she liked him. Anyone that could make Cassandra look like she was eating sour grapes was going to be her friend. If she survived, that is.

  
“My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions. I’m pleased to see you still live.”

  
She wondered if Varric could get him to stop saying morbid things to her, it was bad for her health.

  
The dwarf must have read her mind.

  
“He means, ‘I kept that mark from killing you while you slept.’”

  
Now that made more sense.

  
And considering what the mage said earlier...

  
"You seem to know a great deal about it all."

  
Cassandra nodded.

  
"Solas is an apostate, well-versed in such matters."

  
Good for him. But she'd been around mages her whole life and none that knew about a giant hole in the sky or its connection to a mark on her hand. And as far as she knew this one the first occurrence of such events, so who was this man?

  
"Technically, all mages are now apostates, Cassandra. My travels have allowed me to learn much of the Fade, far beyond the experience of any circle mage. I came to offer any help I can give with the Breach. If it is not closed, we are all doomed regardless of origin."

  
At least on that, they could agree.

 

* * *

 

 

Being told of the destruction of the Temple of Sacred Ashes and actually seeing it was two wildly different things. Bodies twisted and charred permanently in their final moments, silently screaming at the sky. The smell of burning flesh permeated every centimeter of the area and she was almost certain that the odor would linger on her for the rest of her days, even after just a few moments. This is what she survived? It was no wonder everyone looked at her like she was a monster. No one should have walked away from this unscathed. The mark on her hand flared to life as they approached the Breach. Well, mostly unscathed. And it just happened to be connected to the hole in the sky. She was actually starting to wonder if she had caused the explosion. She had no memory of what happened, how could she be sure?

 

She chewed her lip, staring upwards at the Breach. Well, if she had been involved with whatever had caused the explosion she would do her best to atone for it now.

  
Hearing the voice of the woman she may have had a part in murdering was even more unsettling than seeing the charred corpses of her followers. Guilt sat heavily against her stomach.

  
‘ _You don’t even know if you should feel guilty, fool woman_.’

  
Even seeing herself being told by the Divine to warn the people did nothing to ease the rotten feeling. It didn’t feel the slightest bit familiar.

  
She shook her head. It wasn’t the time and the answer didn’t really matter at the moment. What mattered was sealing the Breach.  
She looked to Cassandra for her signal and when the woman nodded she pressed her hand up towards the rift.

  
The tether shot from her hand to the rift and she thought ‘open’.  
The rift snapped open on command. It was far easier than closing one had been, which honestly didn’t bode well for sealing it.

  
She readied her bow as a demon, far larger than the shades or wraiths she had seen before, fell from the rift. If she survived this she’d find the answers she needed, even if she had to fight her way out of prison for it. And if she wasn’t guilty? Well, she’d have on hell of a story to tell!


	2. Holy Virgin

In her experience, city elves and Dalish elves weren’t all that different. One lived alongside humans, doing their best to survive. The other traveled and avoided humans (for the most part) and did their best to survive. Of course, they didn’t see it that way. Every contact she had with city elves they tended to glare her at her or ignore her presence completely. One dropping to their knees and pressing their forehead to the floor was entirely new.

 

She seemed so terrified. The girl gave little information to her other than Cassandra wanting to meet her at Haven’s Chantry before backing out of the cabin, nearly tripping over her feet as she went. Fear made sense if she was still a suspect for the Breach opening but they way the girl acted made it seem more like she had accidentally stumbled upon some high ranking noble taking a nap.

 

Dozens of questions flew through her mind. If she were still a prisoner, why was she in a cabin? Why did the girl keep referring to her as “lady”? Why wasn’t she in a cell? Why had Cassandra left her alone? How much did Cassandra actually know about her? Nothing made sense. She stood up slowly and sucked in a sharp breath as she went. She needed a poultice and to never move again.

 

She bent forward, stretching herself slowly and gently towards her feet. She closed her eyes and leaned back up with a groan. When she opened her eyes, she walked slowly to the window. It was big enough, she could just hop through it. She tilted her head carefully out it, looking around. She walked across to the window beside the bed, tilting her head out and looking around. There were people, sure, but if she was careful she could sneak around the back and up into the trees. She could probably get a sufficient head start and honestly, they wouldn’t have a chance of catching her once she was past the tree line.

 

She stepped away from it, staring at her left hand. She traced her finger along her scarred palm. It actually looked pretty similar to a burn scar she had on her hip. The skin still tingled, indicating it was new. It shouldn’t have healed as quickly as it had, but whether that was due to her time in the Fade, the fact that it was caused by some unknown magic, or Solas’ doing, she didn’t know.

  


She hadn’t been able to close the Breach. She knew, it had felt different. Every rift she had closed leading up to it, the mark would stop burning and itching entirely. When that one had closed it had rebounded against her, practically setting her hand on fire in the process. And the event had knocked her unconscious.

 

No, she couldn’t leave. Her conscious wouldn’t let her and even if it did they’d likely hunt her down. She didn’t think they’d succeed in finding her necessarily, but how many Dalish clans would be their victims through the mess? Not to mention she was more likely to get answers about the mark here. She would stay, then. Help them, help her. For now, she would assume they knew as much about her as she did about them.

 

She turned on the room and inspected it. Books were piled all over, stacked on the bookshelves rather than lining them. Next to her sat a small table and chair with a loot leaned against it. On the other side of the room sat a raven in a cage. The bird honestly looked like something out of somebody’s nightmares and it was very difficult not to fall in love with it on site. Past that, however, she couldn’t find anything truly distinctive about the room. She paced through it, taking her time to look through things. All she found was a note titled “Patient Observations”. She set it to the side and started pulling her clothes on.

  


She wondered if Cassandra would look at her like she’d just ate a lemon if she showed up in her underclothes. The thought amused her but there was snow on the ground and she didn’t quite like the idea of freezing for the sake of a joke.

 

She re-did her ponytail, tightening it up as she walked to the door. When she felt adequately prepared she opened the door. She promptly shut it. She hadn’t been prepared. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She had to be seeing things. She refused to believe she had seen a crowd of people outside her door. It had to be light reflecting off the snow, the mark making her hallucinate, anything.

 

Was it a mob? No. If it had been that they wouldn’t have been letting her rest, nor would they have been waiting patiently for her to leave the cabin. They would be pounding on the damn building, breaking the door down, and dragging her out by her hair. It also didn’t seem like something Cassandra would pull. From their first meeting and every interaction after, she had gathered that if the Seeker had wanted her dead she would have charged into the room and ran her through instead of sending some poor elf girl to fetch her.

 

There was a crowd outside her door and she didn’t know why. Every part of her was telling her not to open the door again, to hop out the window and take her chances. But they had already seen her, she had foolishly let her guard down and opened the door wide open. They were likely waiting for her to come back out again.

 

She straightened herself. There were people outside her door. They weren’t here to kill her, it wasn’t probable anyway. Hell, they probably weren’t even there for her. This cabin obviously belonged to someone, they could be waiting for them.

 

She squared her shoulders and reached for the door again.

 

‘ _They don’t know who you are. They don’t know who you are. They don’t know who you are._ ’

 

She stepped outside, closing the door behind her. She held her hand up to shield her eyes from the sun and did her best to look as comfortable and confident as she could. She kept her face clear of the emotions churning inside her and lowered her hand. Two guards stood on either side of the stairs leading down the path, their right fists pressed against their chests over their hearts. Along the road ahead there were at least 20 soldiers on both sides of the road, keeping the crowd from passing by them.

 

‘ _They don’t know who you are. They don’t know who you are. They don’t know who you are._ ’

  


She made her way down the steps, hoping against hope that she looked as if she belonged there. As she passed them, the soldiers pressed their right fists against their chests in salute. The crowd began murmuring but she refused to look at them, keeping her eyes on the path ahead. The Seeker was probably expecting her by this point and if she made her wait much longer was likely going to track her down.

 

“That’s her. That’s the Herald of Andraste!”

 

Oh, they really didn’t have a clue who she was.

 

“Hush! We shouldn’t disturb her.”

 

“Why did Lady Cassandra have her in chains?”

 

_'Because I survived a catastrophic explosion that killed everyone else that had been caught in it.'_

 

She walked up the slope, carefully listening to the people she passed. It would mainly be gossip, sure, but it was an effective way to gain some insight into what they were feeling.

 

“I thought she was supposed to seal the Breach entirely?”

 

And she promptly stopped listening. If she wanted to be reminded of her failures, she’d listen to herself more often.

 

She pushed open the chantry doors and was relieved to find no one in sight but her. As the doors shut behind her, she took a moment to bask in the quiet their barrier provided.

 

“Have you gone completely mad?!”

 

But only a moment.

 

“I do not believe she is guilty.”

 

Well, that was something at least. She headed for the door at the end of the hall, the arguing getting louder as she went.

 

“Your duty is to serve the Chantry.”

 

“My duty is to serve the principles upon which the Chantry was founded, Chancellor. As is yours.”

 

She pushed the door open.

* * *

She was wishing she’d ran when she had the chance. First, she was a prisoner, suspect to the murder of thousands and the Divine herself, seconds from being cut down by anyone who thought justice was coming too slow. Now she was a prisoner of a different kind, a prisoner with responsibilities. Responsibilities like closing rifts and saving the world. And she had been conscripted into the Inquisition. Who did they think she was? The Champion of Kirkwall? No, they thought her the Herald of a prophetess of a god she didn’t believe in. That was much worse.

 

“You look ill.”

 

Leliana was standing beside her, looking mildly concerned. She sighed and rubbed her temples.

 

“I feel ill.”

 

“Not acclimating to your new role easily, I assume?”

 

She did sound genuinely concerned, but there was definitely amusement in her tone as well.

 

“You’re enjoying this.”

 

The woman hummed lightly, a small smile tugging at her lips.

 

“Perhaps a visit to the Apothecary would be wise.”

 

They stood there for a moment longer, looking out at the village from the Chantry steps before Leliana broke the silence again.

 

“There is a cabin just outside the village, a clinic I believe. The owner, unfortunately, died at the Conclave with the others. Apothecary Adan refuses to move to it. He says he can do more good if he's in the village than if he's out of it. He would like to see if the old master left anything behind he could use for his patients, but thanks to current events he is preoccupied."

 

Leliana turned to look at her fully now.

 

"Perhaps if you have the time and are able, you could go take a look for him? If you head out of the village gates and follow the path right past the training grounds, then left you'll find it."

 

The elf nodded thoughtfully.

 

"I will...take a look. Yes. Thank you for telling me. Which way is the apothecary?”

* * *

The cabin was larger than she had expected it to be. She supposed it shouldn’t have surprised her, Leliana had informed her that it had been a clinic before the Breach had opened.

  


She pushed the door open a bit and peeked inside. Shadows covered the room before her and she huffed an aggravated sigh. Shoving the door open completely, she cursed Taigen for not having any windows for the building. Wasn’t fresh air supposed to be good for the ill? Luckily there was a brazier in the middle of the room. She grabbed a few of the logs she had seen at the side of the house and arranged them in the metal grating. She looked around the house hoping to find a tinderbox lying around.

  


“Ah-ha!”

  


She held it up triumphantly as she set about starting the fire. Once she was sure it would go out without her hovering over it, she retrieved a reed from a drawer of the desk and, after lighting it from the flame in the brazier, used it to light some of the candles she had found in her search for the tinderbox. With the candles lit, she closed the door enough to let the building heat up and began taking candles and setting them at various spots around the room.

  


She decided to begin with what she could see. As she went around the cabin she picked up bottles and sat them in one corner, papers next to them, dried herbs next, and so on. She searched every corner of the clinic, finding food and bandages and other necessities that the apothecary to could put to use. There were several old poultices and salves as well, but she would leave that up to Apothecary Adan to decide whether or not they were still useable.

  


She then started looking through the crates and small barrels around the room. Alcohol, for cleaning wounds she thought, oil, furs, oil lanterns, cushions, more bandages, blankets, tinderboxes, candles… What was this man’s obsession with candles? She dragged the boxes and their content toward the door. When she was finished, she did one more quick walk around the cabin before surveying her work. The crates, barrels, and cots were all dragged to left corner of the room, close to the door. All the loose items she’d found-bottles, papers, herbs, food-had been placed upon the shelves and straightened.

  


Placing her hands on her lower back, she stretched, tilting her head towards the ceiling. She let out a pleased breath, her body relaxing a bit as she opened her eyes.

  


Any ease she may have felt was shattered almost immediately. Her shoulders slumped and she stared at the ground praying that she’d been hallucinating from hunger. It had been nearly 5 days since her last meal. It was plausible, right?

  


She dragged a hand down her face and wearily turned her head back up. No. She had been seeing clearly. Besides, she had gone far longer without food without too much mental instability.

  


She placed the tip of her index finger between her teeth, chewing gently. The building apparently had a loft that she hadn’t noticed during her candle light tour and upon it were more barrels. She was going to need help with this, but first she may as well get the ladder down see if there was anything she could use in them.

  


She was pleased to find she did have some luck left. She had managed to balance, rather precariously for her liking, on some of the crates she had moved under the ladder. She grabbed the closest rung to her and pulled gently, easing it to the floor. When she felt confident in its stability, she grabbed a candle and made her way up to the loft.

* * *

She stood pressing her face closer to one of the hatches she’d found on the ceiling. She shivered letting the cool air run across her face and pushed her sweat heavy bangs back from her forehead. This time she was actually finished. Now it was just a matter of trying to get it all down. She pressed her hand against her shoulder and rolled it gently. No, she decided. She’d done quite enough in the past two days. She deserved a break.

  


The brazier had long died out when she slid down the ladder and pushed out the door. She had worked from the afternoon until the sun had begun setting. The job had merely been to look around and take inventory, but she had gotten too caught up in it. After what she’d been through, she’d needed some mediocre task to keep her mind from crumbling. She wondered if Leliana had known this and offered her the task for that reason. It was better than staying in the village being stared at in awe.

  


Leliana was with Cassandra, Cullen, and a woman she had yet to meet. Leliana nodded as she listed off what was in the many barrels (mainly alcohol), crates, and bottles. She told her of the loft and how, with her current state, she found it to be impossible to unload on her own. Cullen said he would send soldiers in the morning to carry the items back to the village, stating that it would be a good workout for his men.

  


When she was finished Cassandra cleared her throat.

  


“I believe introductions are in order. This is lady Josephine Montilyet. She is our ambassador and chief diplomat.”

  


The Josephine gave a small curtsey and smiled at her.

  


“Andaran atish’an.”

  


Her eyebrows rose in surprise.

  


“You speak Elven?”

  


The woman gave a small laugh.

  


“You’ve just heard the entirety of it, I’m afraid.”

  


Cassandra moved on.

  


“You’ve already met Commander Cullen, leader of the Inquisition’s forces.”

  


The man nodded at her.

  


“It was only for a moment on the field. I’m pleased you survived.”

  


She laughed in surprise.

  


“That makes two of us.”

  


Cassandra gestured to her left.

  


“And of course you know Sister Leliana.”

  


Leliana smiled and stepped forward a bit.

  


“My position here involves a certain degree of-“

  


 Cassandra cut in.

  


“She is out spymaster.”

  


Leliana frowned at her and sighed.

  


“Yes. Tactfully put, Cassandra.”

  


‘ _Assume they know as much about you as you do about them._ ’

  


She leaned forward, giving them a small bow.

  


“A pleasure to meet you all. My name is Athenna Lavellan.”

* * *

The meeting drew to a close. Leliana’s people were being sent to scout the Hinterlands for signs of Mother Giselle. They would wait for their report and when it came Athenna, Solas, Varric, and Cassandra would go meet with her. For the time being, Athenna would be staying in the old clinic. The building was larger than the other huts in the village and would lend to her importance, Josephine had said. It was also closer to Cullen’s troops so if anything were to happen they could respond quickly and efficiently. Because Athenna’s new title as the Herald of Andraste painted a big red target on her back.

  


Josephine had given her a bag of clothes. They may not be perfect, she had said, but they would have to do until they had gotten her more clothes delivered to her. When she had taken the bag, Leliana and Josephine had shared a knowing smile. Athenna had refused to open it out of fear of what they were planning. Josephine had told her that inside was also a smaller bag, filled with cloths and soaps should she need it. She had a feeling it was a slightly unsubtle way for the ambassador to tell her she smelled. The sweat soaked clothes she had been wearing for the past 4 days likely didn’t help the matter.

  


After stopping by the apothecary to pick up the treatments he’d prepared for her (a salve for the cuts, a poultice for the bruises and sore muscles, and a potion for any aches she had) she made her way back towards the village gates. As she walked around the tavern, the smell of food hit her nose and her stomach growled painfully. How long had it been since she’d eaten? She couldn’t remember. Four days? Five maybe. Her stomach growled again and she followed the scent to a fire between the tavern and some tents.

  


Varric was kneeling next to it, stirring the pot gently and ladling out some stew. He paused and looked up at her slowly. She felt heat rise in her cheeks. She must have looked like a wolf staring down a ram. But the dwarf only smiled and waved her over. When she approached he held the bowl out to her reaching for another that he’d placed beside him. She sat her bags down and took a sat next to him, crossing her legs and taking the bowl with a grateful “Thank you.”

  


“Now that Cassandra’s out of ear shot, are you holding up alright?”

  


She sipped carefully at the stew, doing her best not eat too quickly, and raised a curious eyebrow.

  


“I mean, you go from being the most wanted criminal in Thedas to joining the armies of the faithful. Most people would’ve spread that out over more than one day.”

  


Athenna glared into the fire.

  


“None of this shit should have happened.”

  


“You don’t know the half of it.”

  


They sat like that for a while, eating and talking about what had happened. They swapped stories back and forth and by the end of it they were both full and laughing.

  


“She only shoved you?! You’re lucky. With me she started stabbing books. I guess it’s because you were unconscious for the worst of her rage. She was practically frothing at the mouth.”

  


Athenna tilted her head back and laughed. For once it wasn’t weighed down by stress or the impending doom of the world.

  


“I’m beginning to think it’s just how Cassandra greets people.”

  


Varric shook his head.

  


“If that’s how she greets strangers, I’d hate to see how she greets her enemies.”

  


She leaned back against her palms and stared into the fire. For the first time since she’d woken up she felt relaxed and even if the feeling was only fleeting she was grateful for it. But with the small reprieve came the realization with just how much damage had been done to her body.

  


“Thank you. I needed to talk about it.”

  


“Anytime, Snow White.”

  


She rolled her eyes.

  


“If I’m Snow White, who, pray tell, is my Prince Charming?”

  


Varric hummed and pressed his lips to his fist in thought. He stared into the fire for a moment before grinning.

  


“Chuckles. Definitely!”

  


She scoffed and pushed herself to her feet.

  


“I’m leaving before you make anymore horrible predictions about my love life. Thank you for the food and good night.”

  


She could swear she still heard his barking laughter echoing off the mountains by the time she’d made it back to the clinic.

* * *

The fire crackled and hissed as she placed the cauldron of ice she’d gathered from the lake on top of it. She was sure it’d be enough, but if it wasn’t she had a bowl with a few more chunks just in case. While the ice melted she picked up the bag Josephine had given her. She steeled herself, remembering the look the ambassador had shared with Leliana, and opened the bag. She blinked and carefully dumped its contents. Huddling close to the lantern she picked up each piece of clothing and inspected it. She scrunched her nose in distaste.

  


They were dresses. Expensive, not ridiculously so, but enough to be above something a commoner would have. The sleeves were long, at least to her elbow, and the collar was high. But each one was white. She set them down on the desk and rubbed the side of her head. They were dressing her like she was some sort of Holy Virgin.

  


It was just until she got something made for herself though. She had already spoken to the blacksmith about getting some armor. When it was finished, she’d wear it instead of some pretty white dresses that she definitely couldn’t afford and would ruin the moment she stepped outside. What had they been thinking?

  


‘ _That you’re a religious symbol for the Inquisition. Not a person._ ’

  


She picked the last one. White again, but this time cotton instead of satin. It was rather large and had white ribbon from the neckline to the waist. The sleeves were long and poofy. A nightgown then. Not that she’d ever worn one before. She considered forgoing it entirely, but the idea of having an extra layer against the cold was tempting. She folded it on top of the furs and blankets she’d piled on the floor.

  


She picked up the small satchel that had fallen from the bag and pulled the cauldron off the fire. She dug a cloth out and pick up a small bar of soap and sniffed. Rose. A noble smell. Her favorite. She stared at the little bar, rubbing her thumb across it. If it was her favorite, why did it make her chest ache?

 

Bathing had been the best thing she had done all day. Her skin felt smooth and clean and she quite frankly felt like laying on the furs and cushions and basking in the feeling. The throbbing pain across her body convinced her not to, not just yet. She pulled down a poultice from the desk and some cloth from the bag Josephine had given to her. She divided the fibrous mass between the cloths before tying them shut. Pressing a bag against her thigh, she picked up a bandage and secured it into place. Doing the same to her other leg and one on her shoulder, she stood and pulled the nightgown over her body. She tightened the ribbons across her torso and sat with her back to the fire.

  


She was eager for rest but there was one more little ritual she had to finish with. She ran her fingers through her hair, loosening tangles and shaking free water, allowing the fire to dry her hair for her. When it was mostly dry she braided her hair back and secured it in place with one of the extra ribbons she’d found in the bag of clothes. She picked up the small hand mirror she’d found in the bag of toiletries, making sure the braid wouldn’t fall out as she slept.

  


She nearly dropped the damn thing. She turned back toward the fire, casting light over her face so she could see better. Setting the mirror down, she brought her knees to her chest and stared into the fire. Her body trembled. It felt as though the air had been knocked from her lungs. She pressed her lips together hard and took a shuddering breath through her nose. She could feel the tightening of her muscles in her throat, the telltale ache there alerting her to what was happening long before the tears actually came.

  


Her hair was snow white.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to attempt to update every tuesday or every other tuesday. I've been incredibly sick lately so bear with me.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm honestly so excited for the next chapter. I tried to work within the bounds of the prologue for this one so all you really see differently is her reacting to people. I get a little more freedom from here on out.  
> If you have any advice or criticism you'd like to share, please feel free. In the meantime, I'm gonna get to work on the next bit.


End file.
